It Started As a Punishment
by Slytherinsqueen88
Summary: When a punishment becomes an escape, how far will Draco be able to flee? TW: contains descriptions of Anorexia and child abuse
1. The Beginning of it All

**AN: Hi everyone! This is my first ever fanfic so any comments or criticisms would be greatly appreciated (on the other hand please keep in mind that I'm new to this.) Before I get started I'd just like to thank LadyLilyMalfoy for her advice and encouragement; without her and her inspiring fanfics I don't think I'd have decided to finally post something….so go check out her fanfics (I particularly recommend 'The Other Side of War').**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, it belongs to J.K Rowling no matter how much I wish it was mine.**

**WARNING: This fic will contain descriptions of child abuse, Anorexia and other behaviour associated with disordered eating…. please do not read if you think it will trigger or upset you!**

**Enjoy the fanfic….**

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It started as a punishment; in fact, when Draco thought about it the voice in his head was not at all the first to explain that food had to be _deserved. _He shuddered a little thinking of that word, how many times had it been used to justify pain... he wasn't sure, but that wasn't unusual, these days there was very little he was sure of.

The first time he went hungry was not a particularly painful memory, at least it wasn't compared to others; it never appeared in his nightmares nor as uncontrollable flashbacks. Nevertheless, he remembered it vividly: he'd been around 5 – too young for the cane or curses but far too old for his mother's lacklustre protection.

"_What is this Draco?"_

"_It's us Father: you and mother and me, I drew it this morning!"_

"_And this Draco?" Lucius had said as he'd stabbed a small green section of the drawing._

"_That's Cinders" Draco had said innocently, at 5 he hadn't yet understood that there was nothing to be done; that father wouldn't respond to begging, apologies or fighting and that threats were never empty. He did however know that getting upset seemed to enrage Father even more so he tried his best to suppress the tears that threatened to betray him._

"_I see." Father had hissed "I haven't met Cinders yet; could you introduce him to me?"_

"_Yes, Sir" the boy has said before scurrying off to fetch his dragon plushie._

_When Draco returned he proudly presented the toy to his Father who took it with a subtle look of disgust._

Draco didn't quite remember what happened next only that the next morning he'd woken up with a damp pillow, an empty stomach, bruises and words like _"Useless! Malfoy's don't play with such pathetic toys" _and _"you're to stay in here till I say so…. If I hear that you've asked the elves for food, I'll be much less lenient with the next correction." _Ringing in his head.

He hadn't had to wait long that time, his father had sent a house elf up with dinner the same day.

Then it became a strategy: if he could just stay in his room for long enough, stay out of sight long enough, then perhaps they'd forget about him. Forget his uselessness. Forget how pathetic he was. Just forget that he even existed.

Sometimes it actually worked and he'd be able to go weeks without catching his father's attention just by disappearing into his wing of the manor during the day and only sneaking down to the kitchens for food once it was dark and he was sure no one but the house elves were awake.

This strategy had been developed over the summer holidays between third and fourth year. Draco hated the summer; while other children looked forward to the endless months with no school, homework or demanding teachers – months full of fun with friends and family where the home-sickness felt at school could be cured and forgotten till September rolled around, Draco spent the months leading up to the holidays trying to smother the growing feelings of dread and doing everything he could to ignore his father's letters, full of coded threats in the form of reminders about exactly what made a Malfoy a Malfoy. And then there were summer exams, weeks of going to bed early in the morning and waking up not much later in a panic as nightmares of his father's face when he was beaten by the mudblood yet again ran through his head. The last day of term was something of a relief by the time it came around at least then the agonising wait was over, at least at home he knew what to expect even if all that meant was bruises, cold fury and emptiness.

His strategy had worked well that summer, Draco didn't care much that he ached with hunger during the day or that he'd lost an easily visible amount of weight as long as it meant one less 'correction' from his father. It also made the times when he couldn't escape easier to bear – the kind blackness which enveloped him during particularly savage punishments came quicker if he was already weak from hunger, although that sometimes meant more conversations with his father later:

"_what are you Draco?" _Lucius would snarl as he stood over the child, Lucius' face dangerously close to his son's.

Draco would look at his father with broken eyes, desperately trying to deduce the correct answer, sometimes this made Lucius angrier and the question would be forgotten as he raged about concealing one's feelings. Most times, however, he would be able to deduce correctly:

"_pathetic, Sir" _the child would whisper.

"_Exactly" _his father would say _"you're nothing but a pathetic, useless little brat. A complete disgrace to the Malfoy name. You're worthless. What are you?"_

"_Worthless, Sir" Draco would whimper. _If he was lucky the conversation would end there.

The penultimate day of the summer holidays before fourth year he was not quite so lucky.

_His father and mother were downstairs midway through a "very important" dinner party; Draco had been given clear instructions to stay in his chambers, these of course had been accompanied by the usual warning: "you are not to leave these rooms, do you hear me? Do you? If I so much as hear a sneeze from you there will be consequences." _

_Draco really had tried to stay away, but he was just so hungry and even from his rooms on the far side of the manor he thought he could smell the food being served to the adults. This was ignored at first, but then it all became too much: the room was beginning to sway a little and the food causing treacherous aroma was all that he could think about. So, it was with that food in mind that he slipped out of his bedroom, through maze of corridors that ensured he stayed exiled - out of his parent's way, and finally through to the main staircase. The staircase was unnecessarily grand: dark mahogany banisters framed gleaming jade stairs which glided upwards to meet an impressive landing. _

_In hindsight Draco would regret going through that landing, he would regret ever taking a step out of his room at all. The landing contained many portraits of former Malfoys which would glare down at and intimidate any guest to the manor. It would end up being these paintings that gave Draco away that evening. As he passed it the portrait of his grandfather, the fearsome Abraxus Malfoy, started to talk, "shouldn't be out of his room… no respect…. Lucius is incompetent… disgraceful behaviour for a Malfoy." Draco paled as he heard the portrait begin to talk, "please" he whispered but his grandfather just continued his rant in the same booming voice. _

_Downstairs in the dining room Lucius could hear, albeit rather faintly, the paintings, "damn those portraits" he thought, his father's one was a particular menace – always complaining about the decline of the Malfoys and blaming him for the uselessness of his heir. Still he excused himself from the party and, expecting to simply find the paintings in an argument with each other he went to silence them. Instead he found a terrified Draco desperately trying to quiet them._

_He ascended the stairs silently until he was right behind Draco, then looming over the child he said quietly, "Draco, fancy seeing you here… I thought I told you to stay in your room, or am I misremembering?" _

_Draco flinched and immediately turned to face his father. He was just in time to meet the backhand across his face that threatened to knock him to the floor. He slowly put a trembling hand to is face and winced when they came back stained with slippery crimson._

"_Go to your room. And this time stay there. I will deal with you later."_

_Draco nodded and as quickly as he could, without breaking into a run, walked to his room. Once there he collapsed on his bed, his mind racing. "stupid, so, so stupid…. You knew he'd be angry; you knew you'd get caught…. you're just so stupid!" _

_The waiting was almost as bad as the punishment itself, he never knew how long till the pain would arrive but once it did he always wished it could have waited a little longer. And then there was the hope, the hope that this time it would be different, that this time his father would just tell him off in a mildly disappointed voice and walk away or the hope that this would be the last time, that next times he'd be better, he'd be a "Proper Malfoy" rather than a "useless disgrace". _

_He sat in his room for hours, waiting. Hoping. Then there were footsteps, he flinched slightly and realised he was shaking but still got to his feet and faced the door in an attempt to avoid giving Lucius any more reasons to hurt him. _

_The footsteps stopped eventually and, slowly, the heavy door opened to reveal Draco's father, cane in hand. _

"_Turn around Draco"_

_The terrified boy obeyed slowly, focusing on the floor before remembering that he was supposed to face forwards during punishments and raising his eyes to glare intensely at the wall. He tried to focus on one area of it as the cane was brought down on his back over and over again… tried to focus on breathing rather than the cruel words being spat at him._

_Eventually everything stopped and with a few farewell slaps and a shove to the ground Draco was left sprawled on the floor fighting the black spots that poked at the corner of his vision._

The next morning Draco was woken up by a timid house elf, "Master Draco," it croaked "Master Lucius sent me to make sures you were ready to leave for the station in two hours."

"Where's my wand?" Draco asked.

"Master Lucius had tolds Blinky that you will get it back ats the station." Blinky, the elf, said nervously. Draco sighed and, when the elf had left, summoned all his energy and made a slow painful attempt to stand up. He succeeded on the third try and once up struggled to the bathroom.

He winced as he lifted his shirt and saw the purples, blues, blacks that adorned his back and arms as well as the cut lip and vibrant, violet bruised eye.

"_You deserved it" snarled something in his head, "Now, how're you going to hide that with no wand? You'd better think of something quick... we wouldn't want anyone knowing how weak you really are, would we?"_

Draco sighed quietly, grabbed a potion to relieve some of the pain from the bathroom cupboard and limped into the shower.

Two hours passed with difficulty as Draco struggled to get ready, with every second that passed he became more and more conscious of his lack of any believable excuse for the state he was in; eventually he decided to focus on getting ready on time _"show him you're not completely useless" _and hoped he'd be able to think of something on the way to the station.

Once Draco was ready he began to struggle downstairs, leaving a house elf to take the trunk to the car. When he finally got downstairs he was met by his father's cold eyes and his mother's quiet anger. Her eyes met his and for a second he allowed himself to hope that he saw any semblance of caring in them, but then it was gone, replaced by resentment and regret. She turned to Lucius and after a curt nod from him raised her wand to Draco's face and cast a mixture of glamour and healing charms over it. Draco flinched, he didn't mean to, he just couldn't control them sometimes and being around his parents made it especially difficult. He pretended not to see Lucius hand curl around the cane with a clear desire to punish Draco for his _"pathetically weak" _reaction; instead Draco tried to focus on the relief of not having to think of a credible excuse – there were only so many times _"I fell out of bed, I fell down the stairs, I got in a fight with a muggle" _would fly.

When Lucius had decided that everything was as it should be the three of them made their way to the beautiful black car; Draco didn't really know why they even owned a car, it was only used for going to and from the station and it wasn't like either of his parents could actually drive, instead the car ran on a mix of magic and some strange liquid that he'd heard was called 'petrol'.

They got into the car and Draco felt himself relax a little; he allowed himself to drift into his thoughts and away from his father's _"Malfoy's…."_ lecture and his mother's obvious impatience to get rid of him… at least until next year. They'd arrive soon and then he'd have to comply with his father's 'Happy Families' charade but until then he was free to sit in silence and ponder why an empty stomach suddenly felt so good.

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**AN: Thanks for reading…. I'd love to hear any comments/criticisms/ideas that you have. Was it the right length? Were there too many memories/flashbacks?**

**Poor Draco, reading this back it occurred to me that I have created an utterly hellish world for him, oh well :) I haven't decided yet if he's heading for a happy or sad ending so I guess I'll just let him lead me to whatever ending he wants. **

**Hopefully I'll have chapter 2 up within the next 2 weeks depending on how mean my teachers decide to be. **

**See you next time when we'll be journeying to Hogwarts with our favourite Slytherin prince…. Bye!**


	2. A Complicated Journey

**AN: Hi everyone! Firstly, I'd just like to thank all of you who read/followed/favorited/reviewed, you're all absolute stars!**

**Before I get started I'd just like to give a quick recommendation: I recently read 'To Be a Malfoy' by 'TheQuietAwakening' and I really enjoyed it… go check it out…once you've left me a review :)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, it belongs to J.K Rowling although if anyone's interested I'm currently in the brainstorming process of a plot to steal the ownership rights…**

**WARNING: This fic will contain descriptions of child abuse, Anorexia and other behaviour associated with disordered eating…. please do not read if you think it will trigger or upset you!**

**Enjoy!**

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The car pulled up gracefully near Kings Cross Station, but no one moved to get out. Lucius turned his head slightly and Draco tried to stay calm as he felt his father's eyes sweep critically over him – nothing less than perfection would be allowed out of the car.

"_You're ok. You're ok. You're ok" _He chanted internally; this happened every year, he was always so sure that at the last moment Lucius would send him back to the manor - only once the train was moving would Draco allow himself to relax.

The car door suddenly swung open, it seemed he had passed Lucius' inspection. Draco got out with as much elegance as is possible in such manoeuvres and moved to stand next to his father while a house elf (under glamour charms of course) struggled to lift his trunk from the boot.

Once the elf had managed to collect the trunk without being crushed underneath it the Malfoy's started to move towards platform 9 ¾

They all moved with the same aristocratic air of superiority although every gait was slightly differently: Lucius strode through the crowds, sneering as he did, subtly brandishing his cane, Narcissa was the epitome of grace, she seemed to glide through life in the path left by her husband, extravagant gown swishing by her ankles and Draco… to the inexperienced spectator Draco seemed identical to his father; from the way he stepped to the unimpressed sneer, but if you looked carefully the differences, _"weaknesses"_ were revealed.

Because as much as Lucius tried, Draco was different. His eyes weren't yet hateful and when he was too close to Lucius Draco seemed to fold ever so slightly, his steps were also lighter; more careful, they betrayed his deepest wish to **just disappear**.

They stood as a unit facing the wall to the platform - Lucius stalked calmly through, Narcissa just behind him.

Draco simply stared at the wall in nervously; he knew of course that it was safe to run at it, after all he had just witnessed his parents walk through with no trouble, but despite that Draco had always struggled to truly believe that the wall would let him through.

So every year he stood there, waiting, until he remembered that his parents… his father was waiting on the other side.

Draco sighed and charged at the wall, easily plunging through it when they met.

The platform was chaotic: children laughed, parents worried and animals protested noisily about their cages.

Surrounded by all of this life the cold, collected Malfoys stuck out like sharks in a shoal of fish. They stood together in triangle formation in front of the scarlet train; Lucius and Narcissa took the back while Draco stood in front of them, Lucius' hand crushing his shoulder.

Lucius always did this, Draco thought, always needed to show his son that, no matter who was there, no matter what he did _"no one would care, they probably wouldn't even notice"_ and absolutely _"no one would ever think you worth helping"._ And Lucius was right, it seemed, no one ever did say anything at the station and, to Draco, if one of his father's statements was true, the others probably also were.

The clock hands slowly waved and finally Lucius released his grip on his son. Draco picked up his trunk and turned to face his parents. Narcissa forced a smile, appearances had to be kept after all, and wished her son a good year. Lucius' eyes raked over his son and then he took an aggressive step forward, cane swinging angrily.

Draco flinched and took a scared step back, surely Lucius wouldn't try anything _so_ obvious here?

Lucius, rather pleased with the fear he could cause, raised his hand slowly… and patted his son's shoulder.

"Goodbye Draco, we'll see you at Christmas. Try not to forget us before then." Draco remained motionless as he processed the coded threat; to everyone else Lucius was just being a caring father, but Draco knew the truth, this was a reminder to him that Hogwarts was not quite safe, that in reality they could call him home at any time as soon as they felt he was 'forgetting' their standards.

With the farewells and threats completed Draco picked up his trunk, trying not to show how heavy it was or how much picking it up made his bruised arms ache, he walked nonchalantly to the train, again trying not to betray his desperate need to get away.

Once on the train he moved towards his usual compartment. As he began to struggle through the corridors with his trunk a seemingly obvious idea struck him; he could simply levitate his trunk!

"_Idiot"_ he whispered to himself, _"call yourself a wizard but don't think of something that simple!"_

The truth was Draco was just so used to being without his wand that being allowed it felt strange, dangerous. Over the course of the school year this feeling would subside but any extended stay in the manor would always drag it back out.

Once he had the trunk floating securely he continued his journey to his preferred carriage, with much more ease.

When he reached the compartment he found Theo and Pansy already sitting there – they didn't look pleased.

"Draco" Pansy wailed, "My father is just the absolute worst!"

Theo frowned slightly at this hyperbole but made no comment, that was just how Pansy was, she didn't mean anything by it.

Draco sat down, ready to pretend to listen. Pansy could be a real drama queen sometimes but he liked it really…. it made him feel more normal and it felt safe.

"What's happened now?" Draco moaned jokingly

"I've been promised…." She started

"That's not that bad, I mean, wasn't it expected?" Questioned Draco. He knew this was a big deal but surely Pansy had known since she was a little girl that this was her future and that it would happen a lot earlier than any mudblood would even start considering marriage.

"….. to Flint!" Pansy shrieked.

"What?" Draco snapped out of his fairly relaxed state and stared intensely at Pansy. "I didn't know Marcus had a younger brother."

"He doesn't." Theo cut in.

"Ok, that's fine… you've got years before anything happens and by then the age gap won't mean anything at all. It'll feel normal!"

Theo winced, and tried to catch Draco's eyes before he said anything else.

He didn't quite get there in time: "Honestly Pansy, stop being so dramatic, didn't you learn anything in our etiquette classes?" Draco followed this with a dismissive eye roll and sank back into his seat expecting the conversation to fade away.

Pansy's face crumpled slightly and she fled from the compartment.

"You are **such an idiot**!" Theo snapped. "Why **the hell **couldn't you just let her finish?"

"What?" mumbled Draco. "I'm not the one completely overreacting here!"

"You don't get it, do you? She's really worried about this and you've come in and acted like she's pathetic for being upset that her life has been **literally** signed away!" Theo was almost shouting now, he knew that things with Draco were complicated, particularly after a long stay at the manor, but that didn't excuse the way he'd treated Pansy.

"But… she's still got years before any- "Draco started

"No. She hasn't. And if you'd been bothered to listen for more than 5 seconds you would have found that out! The betrothal contract gives her until her sixteenth birthday, after that she has 2 months in which the wedding must take place."

Draco looked up, shocked, "But, that's, that's only a bit more than a year!"

"Exactly." Snapped Theo, "Maybe listen next time before you come up with stupid comments." With that he got to his feet and followed Pansy out the door.

Draco slumped back into his seat feeling like an idiot, Theo was right, he was so clueless sometimes! He hadn't meant to upset Pansy or make Theo angry but he couldn't help it…. sometimes things just came out wrong.

"Anything from the trolley dear?" A voice interrupted his jumbled thoughts and forced Draco to float back to the present.

Draco frowned internally, when had he last eaten? He thought it had been Saturday morning, or maybe Friday evening, any way it had been a while and he really was hungry.

"_You'll be at the feast soon… just wait until then."_ Something in him reasoned.

"No thank you," Draco politely told the trolley witch before looking away quickly, hoping that she'd just leave.

Sure enough, the witch simply trundled away to tempt the students in the next carriage.

Draco stayed perfectly still; he was confused, very confused. What had happened, he'd been hungry and here there was no danger that could come from eating… so what on earth had that been?

Draco sighed, he was probably just stressed and anyway, the voice was right; they **were** nearly there and the first feast of the year was always ridiculously extravagant - it was probably for the best to save his appetite for that.

Deciding to leave it at that Draco allowed himself to succumb to the general exhaustion that always followed holidays at the manor; he leant back into his seat in a casual yet aristocratic manner and carefully shut his eyes planning on a short power nap.

Meanwhile Theo hurtled through the train searching for Pansy; eventually he found her curled up in an empty carriage.

"Pans? You ok? …. sorry, stupid question."

"I hate him!" She whispered.

"Who? Your father?"

"No…. Draco…. He's just so wrapped up in his own stupid little life!"

"He didn't mean it Pansy, he just wasn't thinking, he didn't understand how soon the contract had to be fulfilled by," Theo reasoned.

"That's not an excuse, I'm fed up of making excuses for him, it's not our fault that he's such a self-absorbed brat!" She choked out through the tears.

Theo sighed, clearly she wasn't in a reasonable state. He put his arm around her carefully and let her just pour out everything: her tears, her worries, her anger - anything and everything that she needed to release.

In times like this Theo felt so helpless, so useless, because his friends were hurting and there was **nothing** he could do to help. He wished that he could just sweep it all away, like specks of dust off an ornament. And sometimes it was all so frustrating because no matter how much he wanted to help and understand, the world wouldn't let him: his friends hardly ever talked about this stuff and he knew that their families were simply too powerful, particularly when who's side the law would come down on was not at all reliable.

A couple of hours later and they had arrived; Theo helped Pansy up and rushed back to their normal compartment to get the trunks. There he found Draco, asleep in his seat.

"Draco? You need to get up, we're at Hogwarts, everyone's getting off the train."

Through his hazy sleeping state Draco's brain struggled to process the words; it had so far managed to identify that there was someone there who was talking to him but he was still working out who it was.

"Draco?" The mysterious words were heard again, but Draco still couldn't match them to anyone.

A hand gently touched his shoulder and the physical contact did what the words could not, Draco was forcibly dragged from his calm semi-conscious state into one of fully awake, paranoid, over awareness.

He scrambled backwards in a desperate attempt to get away as words tumbled out of his mouth: "Please…. I'm sorry…. Don't, please don't"

"Draco, Draco calm down… It's me, it's Theo. You're on the Hogwarts express, it's ok, you're safe."

Draco's terrified brain latched onto the person's name: Theo, suddenly everything snapped back into clarity and with the terror gone all he felt was shame.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

"It doesn't matter." Theo cut in, sensing that Draco didn't want to linger on it any longer.

The boys collected their trunks as well as Pansy's and made their way out onto the platform. Pansy was in front of the train talking to Daphne while Blaise looked like he'd drop dead from boredom if he had to endure another second with Crabbe and Goyle.

Theo handed Pansy her trunk and then the boys made their way over to Blaise, ready to rescue him from imminent death.

Blaise saw them coming and excused himself as fast as he could from the idiotic rambling that Crabbe and Goyle seemed to think constituted a conversation.

They greeted Blaise and then the three of them made their way to one of the thestral drawn carriages. Once seated Theo and Blaise started an animated, if a little pointless, debate on what the best dish at the feast would be while Draco tried to look interested through the exhaustion that threatened to take over again.

He didn't understand why he felt so drained, after all, he'd just had a rather long nap. It was probably just relief at being back at Hogwarts, he decided, it'd pass soon. So he leant back in his seat and let his friends' words wash over him, soon they'd be there and he'd need his energy for the chaos of the great hall and the impending feast.

He let his thoughts drift away and within minutes the castle was in sight; he was almost home.

**AN: Thanks for reading…. I know it's been more than 2 weeks but better late than never :) I should have the next chapter up within the next week as school's out for the summer on Wednesday.**

**I'd love to hear any thoughts you have; reviews are much appreciated particularly as I'm still working things out.**

**Next time we have a feast and visit the Slytherin dorms, **

**See you then! **


	3. A Difficult Arrival

**AN: Thank you to everyone who's reviewed/favorited/followed my other fanfics, it means the world to me particularly because I'm in a bit of a stressful time at the moment. **

**Before I get started I just want to give a quick recommendation: I recently read 'Monster' by 'JohnnysGotAnAddiction' and I don't think I've ever cried so much over a fanfic before, it is truly heartbreaking and incredibly dark and intense.**

**Disclaimer: Much to my dismay I don't actually own Harry Potter... if I did a lot of time would be saved because I wouldn't have to spend so long trying to think of a witty disclaimer :( **

**WARNING: This fic will contain descriptions of child abuse, Anorexia and other behaviour associated with disordered eating…. please do not read if you think it will trigger or upset you!**

**Enjoy the fanfic….**

"…sherbet, boggle, hippogriff."

Draco sat motionless as the snickering around him washed over him. Dumbledore was truly mad but for once he didn't have the energy to mock him.

With the headmaster's speech over, plates after plates of excruciatingly good food started appearing on the tables in front of the students. They all scrambled for the biggest servings of the best dishes despite the well-known fact that the plates could just refill themselves.

Throughout all the chaos Draco stayed perfectly immobile. He had planned on making the most of the feast after a summer of skipped meals and growling stomachs but now that the food was in front of him, he just felt drained of life.

Feeling Theo's eyes on him, he sluggishly reached for a piece of roast chicken and a plate of innocent boiled vegetables. He slowly put them on his plate, not noticing that his portion was far smaller than the ones of those around him.

Every particle of the food seemed to glow in a comforting, welcoming way and as the smell of the chicken wafted through his mind, Draco warily took a bite.

The glow extinguished; all Draco had in his mouth was a tasteless piece of flesh. He felt disgusted by it and as it attempted to slither down his throat, all he could do was gag.

Theo jumped slightly in his seat as Draco suddenly erupted into a cacophony of mangled choking sounds.

"You ok?" He asked across the table.

"Yeah…fine," Draco managed to force out as he choked the food down. "Actually, I'm not feeling all that great, I have a bit of a stomach-ache."

"I can cover for you if you want to leave early," Theo offered.

"Good, see you later…say hello to Scarhead, Weasel and the Mudblood for me, won't you?" Draco said, laughing as he did. In truth, he didn't even have the energy to think about those stupid meddlesome Gryffindors but, as his father always said: "_appearances must be kept._"

So with that, Draco stood up and gracefully strode out, or at least, as gracefully as one can manage with the world beginning to spin around you.

For that was exactly what the world seemed to be doing in Draco's eyes and he was scared. Really scared. This had never happened in public before: all the other times he'd been at home, in his room, alone.

As soon as he was out of the Great Hall, Draco ran. He ran, stumbled, tripped all the way down the seventeen corridors, two flights of stairs and one not-so-secret passage to the Slytherin dormitories.

Standing in front of the bare stretch of wall that disguised the entrance to the common room, Draco could barely summon the passcode from his hunger-drunk swirling mind.

When he had finally given the password, the plain white brick wall slowly slid sideways to reveal the dark curling passageways behind. Draco breathed a sigh of relief that the wall deemed his answer satisfactory; he knew that in this state, a second attempt at the passcode would not have been possible.

Draco left that thought behind as he stumbled down the corridors, glad no one was there to see him like this, and through to the common room.

He'd always considered the Slytherin common room as something of a safe-haven, with its green and silver atmosphere that swept over Draco like waves over drifting sea ice. The lake provided a calm atmosphere as it casted its magical ripples of teal light through the glass wall on the far side of the room and the soothing sounds of the water swaying against the glass could always be heard throughout the room. Though the lake provided light during the day, at night the Slytherins relied on sombre, green tinted lamps to be able to see. Without the lamps, darkness would reign as the night's sky turned the lake to a swirling starless void that even the bravest Gryffindor would avoid.

So it was as Draco half walked, half fell into the common room that evening that the room was shadowy at best and a health and safety nightmare at worst; Draco was the first student to enter the common room that night so only very few lamps had been lit by the house elves who had visited earlier.

He shuffled his way through the darkness and the ornate carved armchairs, through to his favourite spot in the room: a small alcove made of black marble with a green velvet cushioned seat that was placed directly facing a corner of the glass wall that met the swirling lake.

Draco crumpled into the seat and stared up at the water, wishing that he could just melt into it. He watched the water dance over his head as he wondered what his friends were doing back in the Great Hall; he hoped Theo wasn't doing that stupid over-thinking thing about his early departure…the last thing he wanted to deal with right now was an obsessively 'concerned' Theo.

Draco sighed, thinking about his friends normally brightened his mood but today it was just making everything in his head more confused. He gathered himself up and dragged himself to his dorm room.

Once he was there, he sluggishly got changed into simple green and white striped pyjamas and flopped onto his bed in sheer exhaustion. He made sure to close the heavy drapes around his bed securely and cast a strong silencing charm around it for good measure; he was probably too tired for nightmares but one could never be too careful.

When all the necessary precautions had been taken, Draco fell back onto the soft bed and let it swallow him into a world of comfort and clouds. He didn't register the fact that for the first time in his life, the thick duvet and quilt seemed to be doing nothing to protect him from the cold that had set up a permanent residency in the Slytherin dungeons ever since they were built. Instead, he focused on his friends and whether or not they'd mind if he slept in and didn't go with them to breakfast the next morning.

It was with that thought that Draco's mind slipped away and allowed him to be carried off into a land of deep, dead, slumber.

Meanwhile, back in the Great Hall, Theo was thinking: Draco had been acting a little strange ever since he'd joined them on the Hogwarts express: he seemed much less energetic than usual and a bit more irritable. "It's probably nothing," Theo decided. "He's not feeling well today or maybe he's just tired."

Before he could overthink things anymore, Blaise nudged his arm slightly.

"What?" Theo snapped; in truth, he was slightly angry with Draco for leaving the feast so quickly. It put a burden on them to explain later to Snape why exactly Draco had been off in the dorms by himself instead of in the hall eating with everyone else.

"Calm down...I was just pointing out the new defence teacher." Blaise defended.

"I am calm!" Theo grumbled as he turned towards the Professors' table. There he saw an extremely angry looking man whose face was covered in scars and seemed to be missing sections of various body parts: an eye, a leg and a small chunk of his nose.

"That's…that's Mad-Eye Moody!" whispered Theo frantically. "He's supposed to have gone really mental after the war, can't tell the difference between a handshake and attempted murder."

"Sounds like great fun - it's not like everyone except Snape doesn't already think we're all evil anyway," Blaise moaned.

From there the conversation drifted into listing complaints about their treatment at the hands of the other inhabitants of Hogwarts. They reminisced about house points lost and quidditch matches unfairly commentated on.

After a while, the students could eat no more and the food disappeared as suddenly as it had arrived. Seeing this, Dumbledore rose and dismissed the students.

The Slytherins got up and were lead out by their prefects. They moved as a pack all the way into the common room where everyone dispersed.

Theo and Blaise made their way towards the fourth year dorms and wished the girls goodnight before climbing up the stairs leading to their room.

They carefully opened the heavy dark wood door and shuffled into the room. Draco had the curtains pulled round his bed which they took as a cue to be quieter than usual so as to not wake him.

In fact, it was doubtful that their childish taunts and pillow fights would have awoken the sleeping boy - he was too far gone to be yanked back into the world of the conscious by something like that.

So the boys fought on, occasionally being jokingly shushed by Theo who was "trying to read!" and Draco continued to drift further and further out into the ocean of sleep.

**AN: Sorry for the slightly shorter chapter, I promise the next one will be longer!**

**I forgot to mention at the beginning that this fic is not canon compliant, there will be no Triwizard Tournament taking place, instead we will focus on the Slytherins and all their drama.**

**Huge thanks to my beta LDR.88 for putting up with my disorganisation and to TheQuietAwakening for the amazing feedback on the last 2 chapters!**

**Please review!**


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